


When Love Is Not Nearly Enough

by HouseAu3



Category: Original Work
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3320282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseAu3/pseuds/HouseAu3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>December twenty-fourth, Christmas eve, my brother's birthday.<br/>Dad killed him five years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Love Is Not Nearly Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to all of you living in this intolerant world.  
> You deserve better.

00  
  
December twenty-fourth, Christmas eve, my brother's birthday.  
Dad killed him five years ago.

  
01  
  
My brother, dressed in a black suit, short black hair slicked back, gently takes the gloved hands before him, his lips curved up and his eyes crinkling. His bride smiles at him with tears in her eyes.  
  
Maybe this is what every little girl dreams about: Standing on vibrant green lawn, wearing a blinding white gown, facing the man you are deeply in love with. He looks at you like there's nothing in the world that can make him tears his eyes away. All your family and friends are here to give their blessings.  
  
Everyone is looking at my brother as he slides the ring on the bride's finger. It's silent, like a funeral. The only thing can be heard is the sound of cloth flapping in the winds. They exchange the rings, speak their vows, and kiss. At that moment cheers and applause erupt, breaking the suffocating silence. Everyone is drunk on the happiness in the air.  
  
Almost everyone.  
  
The man beside me turns his back to the newlyweds. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opens them again, they're filled with tears barely held back.  
  
"You don't need to come," I says, gently squeezing his shoulder.  
  
"No, I have to." He blinks and looks up at the sky, as if to prevent the tears from falling. He rubs his temples, turns his head to glance at them, and sniffs.  
  
His tears drop.  
  
  
02  
  
My brother has always been the center of everyone's attention. It has been so since we were still little, still learning the alphabets and elementary math. The moment he walked into the room, you knew he was different. Not because he was particularly attractive or tall. At that time he was just a lanky kid with delicate features. And yet he looked like he was from another world, like he was always lit by a faint warm light. His smile always warms people to the bottom of their hearts, and never fails to put a smile on their faces.  
  
He was brilliant. He never needed to spend much time on studying to get a good grade, but no one ever hated him for that.  
  
No one could ever hate him.  
  
  
03  
  
"Sis."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
He sat on the bed, his body swaying, his legs dangling. Even though he was three years older than me, he looked much younger.  
  
"What do you think our lives will be?"  
  
He looked at me, eyes bright.  
  
I sighed, putting the book in my hands away. "Go to college. Go to work. And go to hell."  
  
"Pessimist."  
  
"Thank you. That's one of my personal charms."  
  
He giggled and flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.  
  
"Don't you want to have a family? Someone waiting for you to come back, sharing everything good and bad with you, delighted for the first word your son says, and worried for his first day to school."  
  
"I hate kids, and troubles, especially troublesome kids." I crossed the room to sit down on the bed beside him. I crossed my legs and poked his face. "I can't stand living with other people."  
  
He propped himself up on his elbows. "You are living with other people."  
  
I narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned. "Is it so hard to have a heart-to-heart?" He made half a heart with a hand and pushed it to me. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it on his face. He lay back and burst into laughter.  
  
  
04  
  
I thought about what would be on my father's tomb: A doctor who had saved many patients, for which he was still thanked by many. Used to be a beloved and loving husband, and a good father, until he killed his own son.  
  
  
05  
  
Our family was strict. Our parents didn't allow us to date until college. My father was the most serious enforcer of the rule, and also the most overreactive one. Even if you were just chatting with someone of opposite gender, he would do everything to find out who they were and what their relationship with you was, as if simply breathing the same air with them could get you pregnant.  
  
We had been following the unwritten rule. For me, I simply didn't want to have a close relationship with other people. For my brother, well, he just didn't want to go against our parents.  
  
His room was very "clean". There was no adult magazines under his bed, no porn hidden among other DVDs, no unnaturally high number in his call details, nor was there weird websites in his browsing history.  
  
Most people were shocked about this. They would exclaim, "No way! You just never found it," as if not having porn in a teenager's room made you not human. When I argued that I was the same, they always replied in unison, "You are not human." Those assholes.  
  
He was always the son they were most proud of. He got into medical school, living four to five hours away. At first he could still manage to come home once every month, but when the loading became heavier, we saw him only once every four months or so. Whenever he got home he was always talking about some medical jargons or rare cases. My parents, both being doctors, were happy to offer their thoughts. But whenever my dad asked him if he was seeing someone, he would smile noncommittally and shook his head.  
  
"It's about time you find someone you want to settle down with, isn't it?" My dad would say. He met my mother in medical school.  
  
"I just want to focus on my study. The rest I'll leave it to fate." My brother would say, and then promptly change the topic to some patient he met when he was volunteering in ER.  
  
He didn't like this kind of talk. He only initiated one once, talking about a girl who liked him a lot confessing to him.  
  
"She's five feet ten, two inches taller than me in her heels. Last week she asked me to a movie with her. Once she saw me she blurted out, 'Hey, want to be my boyfriend?'" My brother laughed, shaking his head, and continued, "I was stunned. She took it wrong and kissed me - she was wearing really high heels that day, so she needed to bend down a little. It must have looked hilarious - I was still gaping at her like an idiot. She pulled away, shook her head and said, 'Alright, you haven't fallen for me yet. It's okay. Just remember, I'm still an option.'"  
  
"Wow." I blinked and grinned at him. He flashed a bright smile back. Dad's reaction was practical. "You can just date her if you have no one special in your heart. You might come to like her."  
  
My brother didn't answer. He just smiled his noncommittal smile.  
  
  
06  
  
When I got into college I moved into a flat right next to my brother's.  
  
"Hi, neighbor." He leaned against the balcony and waved at me, wearing only a pair of pants, a sandwich in his mouth.  
  
"Put some clothes on. I don't want to see my brother naked."  
  
"Oh, do you have someone else to look at?" He gave me a shit-eating grin. I took the potted plant beside me, feeling the weight in my hand, and stared at him.  
  
"Hey, that's my housewarming gift for you. If you want to throw something, throw something else."  
  
I put the plant down before grabbing a pair of slippers and throwing it at him. He laughed as he ducked down. "Still not seeing anyone?"  
  
"I'm content with just Google and my computer, thank you." I stretched my arms behind my back, my bones crackling. He gave me a weird look. I stared back. "I won't mind having an affair if you want to give me a Blu-ray player."  
  
"Well, as your brother I'll have to help you stay faithful." He put a shirt on and casually brushed his hair back.  
  
"Tsk." I went back to my room.  
  
  
07  
  
"Look. You have to stay away from homosexuals. They have no self-control. Drugs, parties. And a lot of them have AIDS."  
  
"Is that so."  
  
Fuck you.  
  
  
08  
  
My brother had been oddly cheerful recently.  
  
"Morning my dear sister." This had become his greeting for me every morning. I gave him a disgusted look. He smiled, humming - probably Westlife or Backstreet Boys or some boy band whose members had all grown into middle-aged men. He even closed his eyes and swayed to the tune for a while.  
  
"Are you on drugs?" That was the only explanation.  
  
"Life's beautiful, sis. You should try to enjoy it as well." He still had the slightly psychotic wide smile on his face, as if he was on vacation on some tropical island, instead of breathing in the sandstorm coming from across the ocean on the balcony of some apartment in Taipei. He was always the optimistic one, but this was getting weird now.  
  
"You won a lottery and didn't tell me?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Some professor gave you a backdoor into your dream job?"  
  
"I like front door."  
  
"Met someone?"  
  
He didn't answer. He just smiled.  
  
Oh.  
  
  
  
09  
  
It was Friday afternoon. I had no class. It was a perfect time to get some well-deserved sleep, but just when I almost fell asleep, the ringtone of my cellphone exploded next to my ear. I almost fell out of my bed in shock - Goddamn Metallica. I should have picked Kevin Kern's Green Piano or something - I grabbed my phone. It was my brother, who was supposed to still be in class.  
  
"Is this Kris' sister?" The man asked as soon as I picked up. His voice was a lot deeper than my brother's - Oh, by the way, Kris is my brother's name.  
  
"I hope you're not asking for ransom."  
  
The man chuckles. "No, but I have a human-sized garbage here. Would you mind helping me carry him up?" A sound of a horn came from both the cellphone and out of the window. I looked down from my balcony. A man who apparently was the owner of the voice leaned against the black car parked outside the door. My brother slumped bonelessly on him.  
  
God. He was hopeless.  
  
I rushed down and marched to the door. He smiled at me. "He has a fever. He had forced himself through a couple classes until someone found out - well, I found out. I was sitting next to him. He still resisted for a while. Said he didn't want to take a leave." He let out a dramatic sigh, grabbing my brother's arm to prop him up, letting me take the other side. "Geniuses are dumb. God is fair."  
  
"He's always doing shit like this." I shook my head and pushed the door open. The doorman rushed to call the elevator down for us. "He thinks his life worths less than others." We got into the elevator. Kris' face looked terrifyingly pale under the florescent light. He blinked and squirmed anxiously.  
  
"It's not that serious." He straightened his back, trying to stand on his own, but his legs gave out immediately. His maybe classmate caught him just in time. "Very convincing, really." He raised an eyebrow. Kris glared at him weakly.  
  
We helped him into his room and dumped him onto his bed. Kris grunted and curled up into a ball.  
  
"Oh." The man quirked his lips.  
  
"Insecure kid," I said, tucking my brother in. "I'll take care of him. Thank you."  
  
He shrugged. "When he wakes up, tell him I'll make a copy of the notes of today's classes for him." I nodded. He petted the bed once and turned to leave.  
  
"Nice guy," I said.  
  
My brother grumbled unintelligently.  
  
In the evening he was feeling much better. He sat on the edge of his bed, eating the chicken soup I bought earlier. God knew if it would help. I was not the medical guy here.  
  
"Who's your friend?"  
  
He put the bowl down. It was now empty. "CK," he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.  
  
"What?"  
  
He shrugged. "No one really remembers his name after calling him by nickname for so long. He's just CK."  
  
"Why? Calvin Klein?"  
  
"Yep, loyal customer. And he looks like someone who can model for CK."  
  
"Oh." Honestly I have no sense of fashion at all. All I ever did was admiring the male models whenever I walked past a store. "Fit?"  
  
Kris grinned. "I'll tell him to strip for you one day. He'll be happy to oblige."  
  
"Honestly, I'll rather leave something to imagination. What you can't get is always the best."  
  
He gave me a weird smile.  
  
  
10  
  
The next morning I walked to the balcony as I was brushing my teeth like I did every day. I almost choked to death at the sight of a half-naked man.  
  
"Good morning, Kris' sister." CK leaned against the balcony next to mine, stretching his arms, not caring that there was a woman he just met the first time yesterday. "I was instigated. If you want to kill someone, kill your brother."  
  
My brother suddenly stuck his head out and grinned, showing his perfect white teeth. "Told you he would be happy to do it." He threw a rice ball at me, looking at me with an amused face. "It's so hard to surprise you. I feel like I've achieved something."  
  
"You call that surprised?" CK raised his eyebrows, taking a gulp of the soy milk. He seemed to have no intention to put on a shirt - Well, I'm not complaining. Apart from scaring my brain cells to death, he was in very good shape. He looked like a soccer player.  
  
"I try to scare her all the time. Her eyes would only get a millimeter wider for half a second. This, my friend, is a personal feat."  
  
"Sorry, my neuron is as thick as my thumb." I rinsed my mouth and started eating the rice ball. Kris stared at me intensely. Did he hit his head? I put the food down and glare at him. "Will you stop eye-raping your sister?"  
  
"Ew, that's gross. I just want a comment from the expert."  
  
"Who's an expert?"  
  
"You're always staring at the man on ads when we go shopping."  
  
"That's because I'm not interested in the clothes, thank you."  
  
"Whatever, a comment?" Kris put his hand on CK's shoulder, looking at me expectantly. He really did hit his head, I decided.  
  
"He's alright," I said. Kris arched an eyebrow at me. I sighed and added, "His waist and gluteus maximus are nice."  
  
"Gluteus maximus -" He burst out laughing. CK shook his head beside him. "Should we take him to Neurology, or should we just take him to Psychiatry?"  
  
"Just tell them to send a straitjacket. Save us the money."  
  
I took a watering can and poured water on him. He just kept laughing.  
  
It was a good day.  
  
  
11  
  
It was not a special day. Summer vacation in Taipei was as hot as always. It didn't snow or rain blood. It wasn't a particular dramatic scene. No one screamed. No one shouted. No one stormed out and yelled "you are not my brother". No one chased after and yelled "it's not what it looks like".  
  
There was just me, unable to fall asleep, walking to the balcony and seeing CK kissing my brother, a short "oh", and my brother widening his eyes in shock, looking at me with fear on his face.  
  
"I -" He opened his mouth to say something. CK held his hand tightly, dark eyes staring at me, unblinking.  
  
"First, I don't care who you're dating." I interrupted him, feeling the urge to jump over and pull his face back into his usual dorky smile. "Whatever gender, whatever sex, whatever age, whatever nationality. I don't care, but please -" I deadpanned and said seriously, "Please don't let me see it okay? It's more embarrassing than seeing you on stage in drag."  
  
Kris gaped at me for a moment. And then slowly, his lips curved into a smile. Much better.  
  
"I told you so." CK smiled at him, nose rubbing his cheek. Kris slowly let out a breath and put their foreheads together.  
  
At that moment even someone as oblivious as me felt something.  
  
"... Did you not hear what I just said?"  
  
"Cockblocking is bad for luck."  
  
"You dick-before-sis asshole."  
  
He laughed and walked to me. He hunched over the balcony and reached out to pull me into a hug, resting his chin on my shoulder, his cheek against mine damp.  
  
"Thanks." He sniffed, his voice hoarse.  
  
"You moron. You know me. Do you think I'd be someone homophobic?" I clapped his back. CK stood behind him without a word, giving me a small smile. "I've known you for all my life."  
  
He pulled away slowly and rubbed his face. "I think we just had a moment. We should take a picture. It'll last longer."  
  
"Yeah, I know, the Apocalypse is coming tomorrow."  
  
"Then I'll have to make a difficult choice. Who am I going to stay with in the last moment?"  
  
"I have a date with my DVD. You two take your time." I took a few steps before turning back and adding "The wall is pretty soundproof."  
  
He blushed furiously and threw a slipper at me. I laughed and ducked into my room.  
  
That night I was simply happy for him, but at the same time, in some corner of my mind, I knew I had more reason to be worried for him.  
  
In this world, in our world, love is not nearly enough.  
  
  
12  
  
For the record, I bantered and bickered with my brother, but we had never really fought. It was a shame that our record was broken.  
  
"You know how homophobic he is!"  
  
"I can't keep it secret forever!"  
  
He was preparing his coming out speech, to people including our homophobic father. I shook my head like he was hopelessly stupid.  
  
"Do you really think he will accept it because you are his son?"  
  
He stared at me and asked quietly, "Who will if even my family won't?"  
  
"Me," I said and sighed. "You being his son made it even harder for him to accept. In his mind, homosexual is still a mental illness."  
  
He was silent for a while, fingers rubbing his temples. "Is that so?" He turned and left. He didn't slam the door or kick my shoes away. He just left silently. I lay back onto the couch, suddenly bone-tired.  
  
13  
  
When I got home and saw the expression on my dad's face, I knew he had told him. Of course he would tell him. He had so much faith in people he believed someone would change the value he had held for fifty years for his son. He was wrong.  
  
I walked into his room. He looked up at me and gave me a bitter smile.  
  
"Hey." He rubbed his face roughly, sitting on the bed. "A lot happened this week."  
  
"I could see that," I said and sat next to him. It looked like he hadn't slept for a week with the dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he hadn't. "You look like shit."  
  
He quirked his lips. "I told him," he said, choked.  
  
"I know."  
  
"The first time he said I was just confused."  
  
I snorted.  
  
"The second time he said I was coerced."  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"The third time he told me not to do something this stupid just to be different."  
  
Typical dad.  
  
"The fourth time he yelled at me not to ruin my own future."  
  
I took his hand.  
  
"The fifth time he said I couldn't be that kind of terrible young men."  
  
I sat closer to him.  
  
"Two days ago he said he didn't have a gay son."  
  
I rested my head on his shoulder. He was shaking.  
  
"Yesterday he wouldn't even look at me."  
  
I closed my eyes, feeling the burn behind my eyelids. "Even god needs to rest on the seventh day."  
  
He choked out a broken laugh. "Apparently he's more relentless." He didn't look at me. Just stared at the wall. "Want to tell me 'I told you so'?"  
  
"No," I said, squeezing his shoulder. "But I did tell you."  
  
His laughter stuck in his throat and came out as a sob. He buried his face in a pillow and started to cry quietly.  
  
  
14  
  
The infuriating singing next door stopped, along with the smile even Apocalypse wouldn't be able to change. The morning greetings became a simple "Morning", then a nod, and then just a glance. It was like he couldn't even muster the strength to open his mouth.  
  
He still went to every class on time. Nothing could change that.  
  
"He was avoiding me," CK said, his right hand holding his left forcefully, almost breaking his fingers.  
  
"He was avoiding me as well, mentally."  
  
I didn't know what else I could say.  
  
  
15  
  
How did you change someone's values? There was probably nothing except for electrocution that could change my father's mind. Having both the believes of a Christian and the nationality of ethnic Chinese, I didn't know what was worse for him: Sin, or not having a biological heir.  
  
"Your time has passed -"  
  
"As long as I'm alive it's still my time!"  
  
It was hard to believe that one day I would be having a shouting match with him. It wasn't that I've never wanted to. I had fought with him in my head a million times. I just never thought it would become reality.  
  
"All those great people, dozens of them queer, should they all go to hell?"  
  
"They were misunderstood."  
  
"Oh, really, so they just accidentally -" I didn't even know why I was choosing my words. Why would he care? For him the word "gay" was the dirtiest swear word. "had sex with the same gender."  
  
"That's pseudo -"  
  
"Right, just like pseudo-myopia. A little eye drops and puff, back to normal. I wonder why so many people 'continue to pretend they are homosexual'." I said with as much sarcasm as I could manage. He looked like he was having a stroke. How could all these words came from his always obedient and meek daughter? "You really think he has a choice? You really think he will choose something he knows will bring him hate?"  
  
"Yes, young man thinking he's being modern."  
  
"Religion is a choice! Why don't you tell people with different belief to kill themselves?"  
  
He was quiet for a while, like he couldn't find the words. Ah, priceless.  
  
"It didn't fit the way God made us. Only a man and a woman can reproduce."  
  
Great. Now we are talking about God.  
  
"Next you are going to tell me women are a part of men. That was a belief that should have died hundreds of years ago."  
  
"Homosexual will stop life from being created."  
  
"Great. The Earth is too crowded now."  
  
He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. I wondered how worked up I could get him. "Men and women were made to be a pair."  
  
"People aren't puzzles! So you can fuck standing face to face, so what. It's just sex." He was obviously irked by the way I got more and more direct. Good. I didn't want to spare his feelings. "Why does it matter if you use vagina or rectum?"  
  
He stood up abruptly. For a moment I thought he was going to slap me or stab me, but he just stormed out with a "I won't accept it" and slammed the door shut.  
  
My head was ringing, like the door he just shut had hit my head instead of the door frame.  
  
  
16  
  
After my argument with my father I didn't go home for a good while. Obviously he wouldn't be happy to see me. Mom still called every now and then to check up on my brother.  
  
"Awful." That was always my answer. It was hard to describe just how terrible it was. He still didn't skip any class. He was still a great student in the professor's eyes. He was still a good friend for his classmates. But he wasn't who he had been. In the past he showed his emotions on top of his smile, now he used his smile to cover them.  
  
"Your father just need some time," she said, hesitant. She couldn't be sure.  
  
"Better before it's too late."  
  
"He won't just stop seeing you two as his children because of this."  
  
"Won't he?" I let out a deep breath. "How about you?"  
  
She went silent, like she didn't know how to respond. I huffed out a humorless laugh.  
  
"I should have known."  
  
I hung up.  
  
  
17  
  
When my brother knocked on my door again, I was more than a little surprised.  
  
"I want to try again," he said, trying his best to give me a smile. I spent about five seconds to realize what he was talking about.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Can't make it worse, can I?"  
  
I sighed. "Maybe." But things could always go worse.  
  
"Next week I'll be home for my birthday." He sat on the couch, curled up, and hugged his knees. "He's always in a good mood on Christmas' eve."  
  
I didn't respond. I just stood before him and looked at him wordlessly. He lifted his face, his dark eyes almost reflecting my face.  
  
"How's he?"  
  
Maybe I should be confused, but who else could it be?  
  
"Only a little better than you," I said, trying to quirk my lips. "He has fallen from Calvin Klein to thrift shop."  
  
Slowly and quietly, a small smile grew on his face.  
  
  
18  
  
He planned to say it when he was making his wishes. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but I didn't have any better one. There were loads of book about how to hit on people, but I'd never seen one about how to come out to your family.  
  
He didn't sleep well the day before. I didn't rest much either. He wasn't optimistic. I was pessimistic as hell.  
  
"If he still couldn't accept -" He hesitated. "I don't know -"  
  
"Then there's nothing you can do." I interrupted him. It was a dangerous thought to follow.  
  
He pressed his lips together and didn't say anything else.  
  
The night on his birthday, mom had already put the cake on the dining table when we got downstairs. It was an ice cream cake, my brother's favorite.  
  
Dad didn't talk. He just took out a lighter and lighted up the candles. No one was going to sing Happy Birthday. The dining room was filled with an awkward silence.  
  
"First," Kris started, watching dad at the corner of his eye, "I wish I can get the license on my first try."  
  
"Second, I wish everyone will stay healthy."  
  
"Third." He exhaled slowly, his lips tight. "I wish you would accept -"  
  
Dad didn't wait for him to finish before turning to leave and shut the door. Kris pinched his nose bridge and breathed deeply.  
  
"I'm going to bed."  
  
He walked upstairs quietly.  
  
I went to the door and locked up every lock before violently kicking the door. It was childish, I knew. It wouldn't change anything even if I kicked until my leg broke, but I needed some way to let out my anger, or I might do something worse.  
  
The couch was always a good choice. It was sturdy.

  
19  
  
A few hours later dad came back. I ran upstairs before he got in, but didn't see anyone.  
  
"Kris?"  
  
There was no one in his room. My room was still locked. The door leading to the rooftop was blown open by the wind and hit the wall.  
  
No way. I wanted to tell myself. He wasn't this kind of person.  
  
I ran up and walked to the rooftop. He was standing on the edge. He had lost so much weight it looked like a wind could push him off. He noticed me approaching and turned to look at me, smiling tiredly.  
  
"This isn't you," I said.  
  
"Maybe I'm never me."  
  
"God, you can live your life without dad -"  
  
"I can't!" he shouted, wiping his tears away. "Fuck, I'm not you!"  
  
As if I would be able to not give a damn. If it was true I wouldn't be standing here.  
  
"You don't understand."  
  
"Yeah, I don't." I wasn't sure if I had a reason to be angry, but ever since I was a kid, my fear had always be accompanied by anger. "I only know that my brother is one step away from being a dead meat and the wind is strong enough to push him off. And it's simply because he think he should fucking love other people more than he loves himself."  
  
He squatted down and sighed.  
  
"I'm just tired."  
  
"Then rest, but not forever."  
  
He didn't speak, just looked up at the night sky.  
  
My parents seemed to have heard our fight and came up. Mom froze in shock. Dad crossed his arms before him. I didn't know if he was nervous or disappointed or angry.  
  
"Hi." Kris stood up, waved at them, and opened his arms like a hug, his clothes flapping in the wind.  
  
"God, you don't need to do this. We just need time to adjust -"  
  
Dad interrupted her before she finished, "This is not what my son would do." Disappointment. He was probably thinking committing suicide was a sin or something to that effect.  
  
"I'm not the son you thought you had," Kris said levelly.  
  
My cellphone rang. He finally got my text. I picked up the phone and put it on speaker.  
  
"You fucking idiot what the fuck are you doing?" CK's voice came from the phone. Kris started and gestured at me. I walked to him.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm just -" He pressed his lips together and took the phone. "I can't go on like this."  
  
"God I don't care what your choice is. I don't care who you want to be with or what you want to do. Even if you never want to see me again -" He paused and slowly let out a breath. "Just please stay alive."  
  
Kris was quiet for a long time. He dropped his hands and turned to stared at the road below.  
  
And then he jumped back, standing on the floor and just breathed.  
  
"Do you still remember the girl I said that really liked me?" He broke the silence and turned to look at dad. "I'll call her and ask her to be my girlfriend."  
  
Dad didn't talk. He just looked at him.  
  
"After I graduate, we will get married. After a few years I'll become a visiting staff. Then you'll be able to have the grandson you've always wanted."  
  
He said it like he was stating a fact. Maybe it was.  
  
"After tomorrow, I will be your son."  
  
He walked away and closed the door behind him.  
  
It was the last time I saw him.  
  
  
20  
  
"I think I should leave." CK wipes his face dry and turns to walk away, but Kris calls and stops him.  
  
"Wait." He has a few words with the bride and runs here. CK forces himself to lift the corners of his mouth. It's a terrible smile.  
  
"Congratulation," he says simply, reaching out with a hand, expecting a formal handshake.  
  
"I'm sorry," Kris answers simply, holding the hand to pull him closer, his other hand on CK's shoulder, almost an embrace.  
  
Then they will exchange some pleasantries, wishing each other a good life, pretending a good life isn't something they should have had together.  
  
Then they will bid each other farewell, politely arranging a day to catch up. "You can bring your wife," he will say, but they both know it will never happen.  
  
In the end they will turn away from each other and walks back to their own world, leaving the others and the life they once had.  
  
But at this moment, they can hold each other.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written six years ago in Chinese. It isn't very well written and it is very self-indulgent, but it is very close to my heart. I wrote this because I was just so angry with my dad. He's very much like the father in the story, conservative, homophobic, sometimes sexist without realizing it. This was basically an outlet for me at that time. (A lot of things mentioned about my family is true, yes. My brother's straight though.)
> 
> I'm unhappy with the way it ends now, so maybe someday I'll rewrite it. I'm not sure.


End file.
